


Not Dead

by K_Ernst



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9072985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Ernst/pseuds/K_Ernst
Summary: Set during Sherlock’s disappearance.  John has an urgent message to deliver after narrowly escaping a kidnapping.  He just needs a little assistance to make contact.





	

 

“Mycroft, could I borrow your phone?  Need to let a couple of people know I’m alive.  Lost mine.”

Mycroft wordlessly fished his phone from his jacket pocket, unlocked it, and handed it across to John.  He looked carefully over the man sprawled on his couch, appearing far too at ease for he winded, bloodied specter who’d showed up on his doorstep minutes ago, panting about being kidnapped and not being followed. 

“Thanks,” John grinned, beginning to type. 

“John, are you in need of medical attention?” Mycroft asked carefully, eyeing his bruised face and bloodied knuckles. 

“No,” John answered easily, looking up from the message he was composing.  “I could do with a first aid kit, though, just for a couple of cuts.” 

Mycroft nodded and left the room.

No longer pretending to type, John searched quickly through Mycroft’s contact list.  _Not under “Sherlock.”_ He found the unfamiliar mobile number he was looking for under “Brother Mine.”  John grinned to himself.

**Not dead.  Kidnaped.  Safe now.**

He added a clarifying **–JW** to the end and pressed send with relish.

Now to wait for the reply.  His stomach fluttered with anticipation.  It had been a long time, almost a year since Sherlock’s disappearance, and John had gone above and beyond ( _well_ beyond) in playing his role.  But after this whole debacle, he felt justified in breaking communications silence.  Couldn’t have Sherlock thinking him dead. 

His best friend _was_ on the other end of that phone.  Of that he had no doubt.  But to have confirmation, to have _proof_ that Sherlock was still alive…that would be something else entirely. 

No immediate reply.  Either Sherlock hadn’t received the message yet, or he was ignoring messages from his brother’s phone.  Well that problem could be overcome with a little persistence. 

**Still not dead.  –JW**

**I think I’ve shocked Mycroft.  He’s been staring at me for 10 minutes, finally sent him off to find a first aid kit. –JW**

**Don’t panic,** he added quickly, **Injuries minor. –JW**

Mycroft returned then, and John set to work cleaning his nastier cuts and abrasions with antiseptic. 

**Nothing should need stitches.  More than can be said for my guards.  –JW**

**}:) –JW**

“What can you tell me, John?” Mycroft had perched in the wing-backed chair across from him. 

John readily described his kidnapers and, to the best of his ability, the locations where he’d been held over the past week.  “Bunch of right bastards,” he commented.  “Did they actually write me a suicide note?”

Mycroft raised his eyebrows in a not-quite-nod and handed John a page from the file he’d returned with. 

John swore.  Then when he read the copy of the letter, he snorted.

**Mycroft showed me fake suicide note.  It’s more rubbish than yours was. –JW**

Mycroft watched his texting with barely-restrained curiosity. 

John ignored him with barely restrained glee.

**Your brother wants to know who I’m texting.  –JW**

**He doesn’t know I know you’re not dead. – JW**

**Figured that out by the way. –JW**

Halfway through the first hot meal he’d had in days, John was beginning to seriously consider telling Mycroft exactly what he knew and demanding assurance that Sherlock was, in fact, alive to receive his messages. 

Then, blessedly, _finally,_ the phone rang.

Mycroft reached for it.

John, smiling broadly, snatched it up first. 


End file.
